Belgian Meanderings
-------------------

Mike Hall

I landed in Brussels around noon, and decided to spend my sleepy jet-lag day by
visiting the largest tourist attraction there, the Atomium. The Atomium is a
gigantic model of an iron molecule (actually a big BCC crystal), built for the
1958 World's Fair. It's rather impressive: you can take an elevator to the top
and ride escalators down from ball to ball. In each ball, or atom, is an
exhibit about the Atomium. Some are about the construction of the crystal, and
others are mainly concerned with comic strips that featured the Atomium. You
see, Belgians are nuts about comics -- the Smurfs originated there. Go figure.

Late that night, around 11:00 p.m., I decided to walk up to the center of town
to see if anything was going on. To my surprise I stumbled upon the Grand
Place, the central square, where classical music was playing as colored lights
shone on the facades of the ornate old buildings that rimmed the square. A
silent crowd watched in awe.

The next day, on my way back to the Grand Place, I happened to spot an
unassuming shop with a sign saying "Maisson de Miel". Smelling mead, I stopped
in and talked to the woman who was working there. She spoke a little English
and I spoke no French, but we managed to talk a little about the interesting
honeys that she was selling. When I told her that I made mead from honey, she
nodded acknowledgment and pulled a bottle from behind the counter. It was
called "Nectar Mede, Honigwijn - Hydromel". It didn't look particularly
inviting, so I only bought a single bottle. When I got it home and tasted it
(I'm drinking some now), it was a very interesting and complex mead. It has
medium to full sweetness, but without a cloying aftertaste. The color is a deep
nutty copper hue, about 12 SRM, which is pretty dark for a mead. There is a
distinct sherry or brandy character to the taste, and I suspect that it
contains some form of grapes, probably red ones. Overall it is a very pleasant
mead, reminiscent of a tawny port, with the lingering flavor of raisins.

My quest that morning was to find an English-language bookstore. After some
searching, I found my grail: CAMRA's Good Guide to Beer in Belgium and
Holland.  This is an excellent book; most of the beers and pubs that were in my
future appeared in it. Don't go to Belgium without it.

Lunch that day was at the Poechenellekelder, a little tavern recommended in my
guide. I had a Cantillon Gueuze and a sausage called kipkap as I watched the
tourists gawk and take pictures of the Mannekin Pis across the street. The
Mannekin Pis is the quintessential Brussels landmark consisting of a statue of
a little boy peeing. To me it sums up the rebellious Belgian attitude, which
also comes through in their beer, which brings me back to the wonderful
Cantillon I was enjoying. I finished up my lunch with a Gulden Draak, which was
heavy and foreboding.

I went straight from there to the Cantillon Brewery, which is operated as a
museum of sorts during the summer months when it's too hot to brew. I was able
to take a self-guided tour, and video-tape the whole thing, so we may enjoy a
showing at a later Atom Masher meeting. The coolship in the upper room was a
definite highlight, as you could see the location where the wort was
inoculated with wild flora through a myriad of holes in the roof.

I talked to all three of the brewers, who are dedicated to making a quality
product using authentic methods. When I mentioned to one of the brewers that I
had imbibed one of their brews for lunch, he was able to name the restaurant
with two guesses. It seems that while Cantillon used to be available in many
taverns in the Brussels area, it is now only available in a few, due to
competition from the bigger brewers and changing public tastes. Many lambic
producers are going with sweeter and less extreme beers, but Cantillon vows to
stick with its real, unfiltered, spontaneously fermented beers. In fact, when
they recently produced a framboise-like beer with 75% raspberries and 25%
cherries, they avoided the framboise appellation because they didn't want the
public to think that it was sweet like the other versions on the market.
Instead, they called it "Rose de Gambrinus" and embellished the label with a
nude buxom blond, sitting astride a man in black while having a glass of the
red stuff. Typical Brussels attitude.

I sampled the gueuze, the kriek and the Rose de Gambrinus at the brewery. All
were wonderfully tart and had a stableful of horsiness. Cantillon only makes
fruit beers with cherries and raspberries (and sometimes grapes), because those
are the only fruits available locally. They did once make a lambic (I'm not
sure if it was fruited) that was aged in a freshly used port cask. I was told
that it had a reddish tint and a complex flavor, and that it sold out quickly.
Too bad I missed it.

Look for continuing episodes in future Suds Times...